Letter Bomb
by Kurissss
Summary: One shot. Emotion can be overpowering at times, but at the end of the day, the heart matters the most.


A/N: Something that can get me past the writer's block for my two major fics I'm working on right now. Uh, so I started writing in present tense, and it catches me off guard because I'm not used to writing in present tense. Please put up with me.

Warning: This was written on a lack of sleep and 3 to 4 servings of caffeine. Kogan. Slight Kames, if you squint. A bit of Jagan? I don't know. Slash. Male on male romance. If you do not like slash in general, please leave. You do not want to waste your time reading this and hate on it. It'll do damage to your dignity and my impression on you as an individual.

This is dedicated to... all of you readers in general. Bah, I can't think now.

Anyway, enjoy.

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><p>Kendall could not believe this. The proximity of the blond to believe with what he's seeing is quite high, given the fact that, yes, his instinct is almost always correct and yes, he follows it so he wouldn't get in trouble, whether or not it is him or his loved ones.<p>

Only now, he didn't want to believe his gut feeling at all.

"I cannot believe this," he mutters angrily under his breath, the statement forced out through gritted teeth. He stomps towards the bedroom of the apartment and the atmosphere is like a nimbostratus is following him, like that cartoon character from Hercules.

He thus stands by the bed, his bed, and glares at the envelop sitting on the desk not far from the paperwork Logan has had been doing.

Their address is adorned with white, angular and neat handwriting. It is one that makes Kendall go red with fury.

He knows the handwriting. He knows Logan. He knew that it would make his friend close up, and retreat back into a hastily crafted shell. He knew that.

What he is angry about is, why the letter was sent.

Obviously it is from Logan's father. Who else's handwriting is as neat as Logan's, as tidy as Logan's, and the depth, spaces in between each letter and punctuation, was as precise as Logan's?

Kendall remembers the expression on his friend's, albeit crush's, face when he looked at the letter. His eyes widened, and he avoided it like the plague, returning moments later to study the closed envelop. He would run his thumbs over the sealed ends of the paper, contemplating whether or not to tear it open and take in the contents. He would sigh and stand up, leaving the room to do his daily activities. And every time Kendall would see it, it would break his heart.

Only today, curiosity seems to sneak up to the blond and tap him on the shoulder now that Logan should be studying at the lobby. And Kendall decided that Logan's presence should stave his curiosity off of the letter.

He dares to look at the innocent, white envelop, and in one stride, he steps over to the desk, picks it up and stares at it like it would open by itself.

"Dammit, Kendall," he mutters again in frustration this time. He pokes underneath the material and lifts, the silence broken by the sound of paper tearing apart. He could feel the fibers shredding under his fingertips, and eventually, the envelop is in pieces. Not literally, though.

"To Logan Mitchell...," he reads out absently, pulling out a neatly folded piece of paper. Unfolding the edges and thumbing at the sides, the paper is laid out enough for him to read.

The sound of the door slamming open against the wall is enough for Kendall's heart to jump out of his chest.

"Kendall?"

He is almost afraid to look over. He forces himself to and his head feels heavy with profound guilt. The piece of paper drops from his hands, and the law of gravitational force somehow made it to the feet of his best friend. Oh please don't...

"Wh-" the brunette's eyes looks at him for a brief moment, and then they dart towards the object on the floor. He bends and picks it up, and the expression of confusion turns into one of slight anger and fear.

"Why... were you reading my letter?" he questions, and Kendall's mind is whirring with all sorts of excuses, excuses that he is used to giving when he is in under pressure, but none seem to be good enough.

"I... I was curious, Logie," he tries. Kendall Knight without a plan is a scared one. "I couldn't help it! You were so... so vulnerable. I didn't know what-"

"And you could just walk in and read my letter?" The timidness to his tone scares Kendall into a deeper level.

"I didn't mean it, Logan," he says. The shorter boy walks up to him and looks up at him whilst holding the letter. Though their heights are different, Kendall feels almost miniature at Logan's gentle yet penetrative glare.

"Well, I'm sorry for being stupid, Kendall, that I can't read my own letter and be a vulnerable little flower for you," he almost spat out the words, and the blond flinches at his harsh tone.

"I really-"

"No, really, Kendall? Because I can handle my... my own affairs and you... you don't have to... to...," he trails off weakly, shaking his head while looking down. Kendall wants to reach out to him, to tell him it's okay. The urge is almost overpowering, but he fists his knuckles at his sides.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't hav-"

"You don't have to say anything," the brunette chokes on his words, looking up at the blond with tears swimming in his eyes. "Get. Out."

For a moment, the once fearless leader is fearing for his life. His friendship. His love. He stands there helplessly, watching the smart boy cry.

"Get out!" Logan screeches. Kendall flees immediately, bolting out of the door of their shared bedroom and hopping down the stairs, not stopping until he reaches the lobby of the hotel. He breathes a little, guilt-laden eyes ignoring the laze of the residents passing by. He stands there dumbly, or rather, dumbstruck.

"You okay man?"

He does not register to whom the concerned person is, but he shakes his head slowly, like he is in a daze.

"Kendall, you look like you just committed a crime."

The smooth, ladies' man's tone is laced with worry. He looks at the hockey captain, briefly scrutinizing his expression.

"Hello?"

Kendall does not say anything, instead, he sighs. James blinks. The suave sweet-talker is not used to seeing such brokenness in Kendall. The state of his emotional being is rare, and the only times the three other friends had got to witness it was when the blond's father left and when Jo left for New Zealand.

He hates seeing the sad, depressing look in the typically strong, bottle green eyes.

"We could talk, you know? I can cancel my date and... yeah," James offers, but the lack of response from the guilt-stricken teenager makes James huff in frustration and take him by the wrist. Wherever they are going doesn't matter. What matters is Kendall.

"You and I are gonna have a talk," he concludes.

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><p>The following evening passes like a blur. Logan is absent from dinner, excusing himself of what seems to be a bout of indigestion, and the current occupants of the table are eating in an awkward silence. Carlos seems to be in a blissfully oblivious cloud, Katie is indifferent, Kendall is playing with his food and James is chewing on a mushroom thoughtfully. He gazes every now and then to the blond and then to his mom, who senses the tension. James hopes that she will not step in.<p>

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><p>That night, Kendall announces that he is sleeping on the couch. Katie's eyebrows raise in reaction and Carlos looks confused. James knows, but he keeps his mouth shut. Logan ignores him, nose going buried into one of the medical books he brought for reference. James could feel Kendall's heart shattering, slowly and painfully, each one corroding and falling from the walls, and breaking further until it is dust.<p>

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><p>"It's about your dad, isn't it?"<p>

The confrontation is straight-forward, not one James is used to doing, but nevertheless, it is necessary. The boy in general looks up from his self-study, the usual molten chocolate irises lacking its warmth. James tries hard not to flinch at his glare.

"If you're talking on the behalf of Kendall, forget about it," he dismisses, and before he could turn back to the book, James stomps over and grabs it, closing it shut and setting it on the table with a thud.

"He didn't mean it, Logan. He was worried. Can you be more underst-"

"Understanding? He looked into my privacy!"

James scoffs. "Privacy? Privacy? We tell everything to each other! We're best friends! It hurts seeing you hurt, okay. Even Carlos knows, and he's asking."

"We're not 8 anymore, James. My dad is dead. His letter sent to me is his will."

Silence follows through. Logan stands there in front of James in all of his vulnerability, his brown eyes shining with unshed tears. He breathes harshly, pursing his lips and eventually pushing past him.

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><p>Kendall purses his lips, taking them in between his teeth and chewing thoughtfully on them. Shifting from one foot to another, he stands by the door, half-hiding, half-watching. He gazes at Logan longingly and his profound apology is buried deep in his heart, wanting to come out.<p>

He could hear the voices in his head taunting him, berating him, hitting him, beating him down, tearing him apart. You can't have him, he hates you, he hates you, he hates you, he ha-

"Kendall?"

Hearing his name is like bliss. He looks up and Logan is standing in front of him, his expression matching his own.

"I'm sorry," he blurts out before the silence becomes more awkward than it is. Kendall blinks then shakes his head.

"No, I should be the one who's sorry, I'm sorry," he says almost timidly, his voice taking on a soft side. Logan steps under his gaze and stares up at him.

"I shouldn't have yelled at you like that," he continues, but Kendall looks away, declining his apology. The tension thickens as neither would back down.

"Kendall," his tone becomes more exasperated. The blond shakes his head fervently despite the plead to his voice but at one point, his chin is caught between Logan's fingers. He tugs, effectively getting the blond to his eye level.

"It's okay," he simply says. Their breaths mingle, their gazes meet and their noses almost touch. Kendall could feel the warmth off his best friend's skin and the faint masculinity mixed with what he could tell is just... Logan. He is afraid to breathe, afraid to take the step, but he is caught off guard.

Still holding his chin and pulling at it, their lips mesh against each other, and it is like fireworks lit up in his head. It is like the high from the top of the rollercoaster, the screams of joy overheard from above. They stay like that for a while, a simple, sweet peck, and Logan abruptly lets go.

Kendall looks at him with surprise and the flutters in his stomach go to an all time high. The spell breaks, and Logan just smiles at him.

"I'll tell you about the letter later, okay?"

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><p>Some ending this is. Ugh.<p>

_Constructive criticism will be accepted wholeheartedly. Reviews are welcome._


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